Every Breath
by SkItZoFrEaK
Summary: HitsuHina I bet, she murmured, that you didn't see that coming.
1. A Reminder

**Every Breath**

_by SkItZoFrEaK_

_This is about as random as I get. No plot bunny excuses on this one, because that would imply that there is plot. Future-fic (how far? well, what is time to the dead anyway?), Hinamori/Hitsugaya (sorta) and some Matsumoto-lovin' because she's just too much fun. And who doesn't poke a little fun at their friends when the opportunity arises? _

_For those of you questioning the "Little June" reference, there's an AMV on youtube that uses that song (by Groove Coverage) in a Hinamori-centered video. It's perfect. Go watch.  
_

_Standard disclaimers apply. Let there be rejoicing. _  
_  
_

* * *

"Nighty night, Little June!" 

"Good night, Yoruichi-san," Hinamori waved politely as the lithe woman sprang away into the evening shadows. "You know, I still don't have any idea why she calls me that," she said thoughtfully, turning to look up at her companion. He shrugged once, indifferently.

"Who knows why Yoruichi does anything?" Hitsugaya muttered, not controlling his breathing at all. Hinamori had put some sort of scent on tonight, and if the slight evening breeze gusted just a bit, it would brush just enough against his nose to make him aware of it, but not enough that he _ought _to be aware of it. So he was not trying to avoid inhaling it, because he wasn't noticing it.

They were almost to his office now, where he had a pile of paperwork and in all likelihood a napping vice-captain sprawled across his desk. Hitsugaya mentally rolled his eyes as he contemplated how much work his loyal yet not exactly dedicated second-in-command was probably not accomplishing right now.

"Hmm," she titled her head slightly, half smiling at the now-empty night. A strand of dark hair untucked from behind her ear, and he did not watch as she smoothed it back with one finger. "I guess I can add her to the list of things that I will never really understand." She smiled, and he let himself answer by smiling back. A little.

_Not too much,_ he whispered.

_You lack faith in her,_ Hyourinmaru admonished.

_I'm giving her time. She needs it. _

Hinamori shook her head, but the smile hovered, caught just at the edge of her mouth. Not that he was paying attention to the nuances of her face. No, he wasn't. It was just that, well, this was Hinamori, and he had always, always been… _aware_ of her. He could look at her – hell, he could simply be in her general vicinity, and no matter what task was on hand, or what else he was thinking about, he would still know exactly what shape her finger curled in as it poked the escaping lock of hair back into place.

"You have a list of that kind of stuff?" he ventured after a moment of silence, wondering if he could somehow tease that smile back out into the opening. "Hinamori's List of Nutty Old Farts and the Weird Shit They Do?"

He did _not_ do the mental happy dance when she laughed.

"No, Himanori's List of Things She Will Probably Never Figure Out In A Thousand Years." She countered, waving a finger at the sky. "Yoruichi-san's strange names for me are pretty high on the list. I mean," she turned her face to look squarely up at him. "my birthday isn't even in June. And I'm certainly not _like_ June, or anything. June nights are supposed to be soft and sweet and perfect, and I think someone like Captain Unohana or even Captain Ukitake fit that description much more than I will…now, anyway."

He heard the drop in her voice, saw the smile slip, and bit down hard on the flash of cold rage that Aizen's memory always sent surging through his veins. "You're fine as you are," he did _not_ say, although judging by the way Hinamori's eyes jumped from the floor to his face and then away again quickly - Damn.

He swallowed, and felt Hyourinmaru shift. _You are overcautious. Fear is a liability in battle._

_This is _not _battle. _

_Isn't it?_

"Who wants perfect anyway?" he grouched at last, and he was only trying to drown out the internal chastising, _not_ trying to fill the sudden awkward silence. He turned from her and reaching for his office door (and no, he was not _fleeing from her_ _like a green shinigami recruit flees a hollow_. It was a tactical withdrawal. They taught you that crap when you were a Captain. Damn dragon.).

He shrugged irritably. "Perfection's not real, and people who pretend at it are irritating."

Her hand came to rest on his wrist, but he had stopped moving long before her fingers reached it. He had felt her shift even as he had turned, and his body had frozen obligingly before his brain could even fully register the movement. She did that to him, forced him to respond to her without even meaning to. She always had, and in all likelihood, always would.

"You know what's at the top of that list?" Her voice was oddly humorous, and he wondered (hoped) if she was amused at him. "You," she answered herself, and this time he could definitely hear the laughter in the word. It shot a little thrill down his spine, and he repressed a shiver. It was hard, and he wondered briefly if this was akin to how his opponents felt when he unleashed his spirit force on them.

_On the contrary, I doubt their temperature rises as dramatically as yours has these last few seconds._

_I will lock you in the armory, _he thought savagely, and tried not to growl as his soul slayer subsided, smirking, back into his subconscious.

"I don't think I will ever fully understand you," she continued, to all appearances oblivious to his internal war.

"What don't you understand?" He managed at last, and ignored Hyourinmaru's mocking congratulations for sounding (almost) normal.

"Well, there's the way you manage to treat me like nothing has changed about me, when everyone else is always so careful with me. You tease me, you get irritable when I call you Shirou-chan, you even roll your eyes and tell me to stop being ridiculous when I get…moody." She frowned, and shook her head almost violently. "But then, sometimes, out of the blue, I can tell that you're hiding something from me, maybe something you want to say or do, and if I prod at it, you suddenly remember pressing business elsewhere and _poof_" she snapped her fingers, "You're gone."

"I…don't know…"

"What I'm talking about? Well, that makes two of us then.," she murmured. "But if you figure it out first, at least do me the courtesy of telling me why you are so very cautious with me." Her fingers slid off his wrist. "Well, at any rate," she dropped her hand to her sword-hilt, and the smile was hovering again, somewhere just behind her lips where he couldn't see and desperately wanted to look. "I know that I'm not likely to ever figure you out."

"You've got time to try," he said quickly, and vaguely wondered when the hell his mouth had started acting without his express permission. "I'm not going anywhere, so I promise you've got plenty of time-"

"_Don't say that."_

The sudden heat in her voice burned through the haze of confusion and brought him sharply back to himself.

"Hinamori?"

"Don't ever promise me that you won't leave me!" She said again, and her hand was clutching Tobiume, her eyes were narrow and they burned, they burned. "You don't know – " she stopped, took a shaky breath, and forced her fingers to relax.

He waited while she got herself back under control, while she calmed whatever anger had flared inside her. He waited, and watched. He was good at that.

"You always were the best at getting me all riled up," she admitted ruefully. He said nothing, but he let his eyebrow lift just a fraction. She saw it, and sighed.

"Nobody knows what's going to happen in the future," she said at last. "And even we have to leave here, eventually," her voice was calm again; somewhere inside it was a hint of her old laughter. And he didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't holding his breath as he waited for it to rise. "Nobody can foresee what's going to happen in the next day, the next hour," Hinamori stepped forward, and suddenly he realized that she was close enough that he had to lower his chin to look down at her eyes. "We can't even see what's going to happen in the very next breath."

"For example," she reached out, put a hand on the back of his neck, and before he had time to think – _what the? - _ she was kissing him.

Kissing him.

Him.

Hinamori Momo.

_HAH! _Went the dragon.

_Shut up, _replied the man.

"I bet," she murmured against his lips, "you didn't see _that _coming."

And just like that, she was halfway down the hall.

At the corner she looked back. "Good night, Toushiro," she said quietly, and then she did something it almost hurt him to see. She grinned. It wasn't a sad little half smile, or a polite smile, or a gentle lady's smile hidden sweetly behind a raised hand. It was wide and it was real and it was even a little mischievous, and it was so utterly _Momo _that it made him ache inside. "Don't work too hard," she called. "I will look for you tomorrow." One last wave, and then she vanished around the corner and out of sight.

And Hitsugaya Toushiro, Captain of the Tenth Division and one of the most powerful beings in Soul Society, stood in the hallway outside his office and grinned like a madman at absolutely nothing at all.

She had kissed him, and somewhere in his head the dragon was laughing triumphantly, but more importantly, she had laughed, she had smiled, and for just a few moments, there had been nothing but joy in her.

And every laugh, every smile, every moment when the shadow of sorrow faded under the light of joy, they were all precious little indications to him that somewhere amidst the scars that she bore, his bedwetter Momo was still alive and maybe, just maybe, waiting to come fully alive again. And he no longer pretended to himself that he wasn't holding out for that day with every breath.

* * *

_Where is Matsumoto? This was longer than I thought it would be, so I moved her bit to a seperate little epilogue(ish) chapter attached to this. I like writing Hitsugaya. I can't help but feel that both he and his soul slayer is probably, despite all the power, authority, and maturity, are at heart just a little bit snarky. _


	2. And then

_What Happened In the Next Breath_

_or_

_Matsumoto Is A Sly Cat  
_

* * *

….Wait, why was he standing outside his office again?

Oh, right. Paperwork. Or something.

She had _kissed_ him.

He slid the door aside and reached automatically for the lights. He could handle just about anything right now. Bring on the Arrancar, the Hollows, an army of invading ryoka –

-the lights were already on -

"Well, _he- llo_, Captain Hitsugaya."

The sing-song greeting rang in his head, bringing him sharply back to reality. He closed his eyes and managed to not groan aloud, but it was a near thing. _I take it back,_ he muttered to Hyourinmaru. _I meant I could handle _almost_ anything._

The _almost_ was sitting (sprawling) at his desk, one shapely leg draped lazily over the surface of the desk itself, chin propped on one hand as the other fanned her chest with what appeared to be a complaint from one of his seated officers, the one that was always whining about a lack of propriety in the division. Hitsugaya took a moment to appreciate the irony, and gather himself for the attack.

"Matsumoto," he replied evenly, "Good evening." _How much exactly, _he wondered with a sense of impending doom, _of that whole conversation did she hear?_

"I was wondering when you'd come in here," the busty blonde smiled, showing just a few too many teeth for his liking. "I mean, I figured you were off with some of the other nutty old farts, but still, you've never been one to shirk the work!"

_It is possible, _Hyourinmaru mused, _that she heard quite a lot. _

Hitsugaya willed his face to cool and moved purposefully towards his desk. He was not going to rise to the bait. Maybe she would get the hint, and chose to be tactful. "How much have you actually managed to accomplish in my absence?"

She rose gracefully, twisting to stretch the kinks out of her back. "Oh, you know, a little here, a little there." She stopped mid-twist and flashed that toothy grin at him again. "But you know, it's such a soft, sweet night, and I just kept thinking that I could use a little company to match–"

"Matsumoto – " he said warningly, glowering at his vice captain, who would not be so very hard to replace, now, would she?

"I've pretty much got the _soft_ covered, but maybe someone sweet –"

"Matusmoto!" _Very _easily replaced.

"Wouldn't that just be _perfect,_ Captain?"

"You," he said bluntly, grabbing the back of the recently vacated chair and pulling it sharply towards him, "smell of sake." And he sat down with all the dignity he could muster, refusing to meet his probably-wouldn't-be-missed vice captain's eyes.

"Why, Captain, you look flushed. You aren't _upset_ about something, are you?" she leaned over and pointed at his forehead. "Or do you just have a bit of a fever? I hate to ask, but really, you're a very hard man to understand sometimes."

"Boobs off the desk," he said flatly.

"Maybe I should get Captain Unohana to check on you, Captain. I didn't know people with your complexion could achieve that particular shade of red."

Clearly she was not overly concerned about the dangers of provoking her captain. Damn job security. Alright, if grouchy wasn't going to accomplish the mission, Hitsugaya would opt for world-weary. He let out a heavy sigh. "Matsumoto, either be helpful, or leave me in peace." He let a little of his genuine exhaustion show in the way he reached for the stack of reports. Maybe he could appeal to her sense of pity.

Nope. "Captain, if you're tired, you really shouldn't push yourself to get it done right now. You know Hinamori often tells me that there's nothing so nice as enjoying a well-deserved rest in a nice, _soft _bed."

He couldn't help it. The sultry purr in her voice conjured up in his imagination a variety of half-formed thoughts involving combinations of the words _Hinamori_, _soft_, and _bed_. He tried to freeze the flinch halfway through it, but too late. The toothy grin grew wider, and she closed in for the kill. "After all, you never know what's going to happen in the next breath, sir."

That did it.

"Get out, Matsumoto. I have work to do."

"Well, if you really don't need me, maybe I'll pop over to Captain Kyouraku's for a few drinks, or, ooh," she leaned down on his desk, tapping her chin as if she'd just had the most spontaneous thought in the world, "maybe I'll go to _Yoruichi-san's_ place for a nightcap –"

He slapped the paper he was attempting to read down on the desk. "Damn it, Matsumoto, I don't care who you chose to plague, or how you chose to do it, just do it elsewhere!"

She was already out the door, laughing heartily. "Good night, Captain!" For one brief moment, he slumped a little in relief, but then the brightly-colored hair and the evil little head it was attached to popped back through the door. "Don't work too hard, Captain! I will look for you tomorrow morn-"

_"OUT!"_

* * *

_I R A Dork. And I missed this place. As frightening as that is. _


End file.
